


Life in Skyrim

by DeeNomilk



Series: Tashok the Dragonborn [25]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Also hey look, Backstory, Fantasy Racism, Orc Culture, Orc strongholds, Orcs, Windhelm, mainly my head canons/me fixing what i don't like from the canon lore lmao, orc lore, torbjorn is a dick to argonians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-01-02 18:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeNomilk/pseuds/DeeNomilk
Summary: Tash finally gets to relax a bit and do what she came to Skyrim for: start a life. She can't resist the occasional adventure, but overall spends her time making potions and enjoying life with her kids.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of Tash doing things with the kids and confiding in Lucien.

Tashok smirks triumphantly as she stretches her arm for the first time in over a month. The bruising has completely faded, and she barely feels any strain as she moves it around. The joint still aches, though she assumes this is due to the new position.

“Finally.” she sighs happily.

She pulls out parchment paper and begins to write out the letters of the alphabet as neatly as possible. Over a month ago she'd told herself, and her children, that she would try and teach them to read. Her injury and otherwise problems had kept her from it but no more!

The script must be easy to see if she’s to be using it to teach her children how to read and write. The next step is to think of a few words to teach them… Short ones, ideally. She picks up a second piece of paper and begins writing out a list.

That should do for now. No need to overwhelm them on the first go. Just as she begins gathering her things, Ma’isha’s head pops up from across the table.

“Mama!” she exclaims.

The two of them stare at each other from across the table for a second.

“Yes sweetie?” Tashok smiles.

“I wanna go hunting with you!” she says.

Ah yes. That conversation Ma’isha had with Inigo must have stuck.

_“Play your cards right and maybe we will take you hunting one day.”_ he had told her.

“Right, that.” Tashok says calmly as she stands from her seat. “I think I ought to teach you how to shoot before we actually go into the woods.”

“Then let’s start right now!” Ma’isha says, jumping up to follow her mother.

“Er… I don’t think I have what’s needed right now.” Tashok says apologetically. “None of my bows are right for you. Bit too big I’m afraid.”

“Aw…” Ma’isha’s little ears droop.

“I’ll get on it as soon as I can, sweetie… And don’t forget, I’m teaching the rest of you how to read starting today.” Tashok adds the last part with unconcealed excitement. 

She so loved to read, but as a child her options were limited and often boring. And while she loved reading to her children - adding, removing or editing details at her discretion - she knew they'd most likely appreciate doing it themselves. Ma’isha and Lucia are both a bit older than the other two, while both Sofie and Alesan seem to have a thirst for knowledge. Sofie especially liked to ask many questions to Lucien, who seemed happy to answer. He did have to reiterate often, considering he tried to explain concepts as well as using words a bit over the knowledge of a typical ten year old.

“I know.” Ma’isha smirks, wiggling her shoulders. “I can do both.”

Tashok has always liked her little one’s energy and confidence. It, oddly enough, reminds her of herself when she was much younger. Her smile falters as she considers this. Confidence. Tashok wonders when she lost hers. Will Ma’isha lose hers as well? Is it something that just comes with age?

She hopes not.

“First, I’ll try and make you a bow you can actually use.” Tashok says. “Maybe Dushnamub could help me… But I’d have to make the trip all the way there…”

“I’m patient. I can wait.” Ma’isha assures her. “… Who’s Dushnamub?”

“A friend, and the blacksmith at one of the Orc strongholds. I’d like to think we get along well enough. I won’t make you wait too long… Now come, we’re going to learn today…”

Tashok grabs an old, cracked slab of chalkboard, looking around for her spare chalk.

“Where in Nirn…” she grumbles as she lifts several knickknacks.

“What are you looking for mama?” Ma’isha asks.

“The chalk… You haven’t seen it around, have you?”

“Uh… I don’t know.”

Ma’isha begins the search as well, kneeling down and looking beneath the dressers and stools. After five minutes of searching, she sees it under the alchemy table.

“Here it is!” Ma’isha pulls it out, holding it up in the air like a prize.

“Perfect! Thank you sweetie.” Tashok breathes a sigh of relief. “Let’s go get the others…”

Tashok slips into her children's room, knocking on the door threshold as she does.

“Hello girls… Are the two of you busy?” she asks Sofie and Lucia.

“Yeah.” Sofie answers, busy braiding — somewhat well for a ten year old — Lucia’s hair while Kit is curled on the bed next to them.

“I see. Well, why don’t you tell me once you’re done? We’re going to learn how to read today.”

“I already know a little.” Sofie wiggles with pride.

“Do you?” Tashok asks with pleasant surprise.

“Mr. Urag showed me when you were gone. Said if I was going to be sticking around I might as well learn something.”

“Oh my, that’s… Very nice of him.”

“My parents had started teaching me…” Lucia says softly. “But it’s been a while.”

“Well look at the two of you!” Tashok smiles. “You already know so much!”

Sofie smiles back while Lucia blushes.

“I’ll be back with Alesan soon. Then we can all get started.”

Alesan happens to be upstairs, playing with Pearl using a makeshift toy he fashioned with a stick, string and a small bundled of knotted leather strips. Pearl is currently going absolutely insane pouncing on the moving end.

“Hey ma!” Alesan greets her. “Check this out!”

He whips the toy in the air backwards, making Pearl before a very intense backflip over three feet high.

“Impressive.” Tashok says. “Are you ready to learn how to read?”

“Yeah!” Alesan beams.

“Good… We’ll get settle in your room. I’ve got everything we need.”

Tashok waves the chalkboard around excitedly.

“I’m so excited to teach you!” she smiles. “I had to learn on my own. Let me tell you, reading the shipping manifests and any random book that comes my way could be pretty boring. Plus I always had to give the manifests back…”

“I can’t wait to be able to read by myself.” Alesan says.

“I’m sure you are. Don’t feel bad if it takes a while, though. It can be pretty tough.”

“I’ll learn it faster than any one ever learned to read!” Alesan boldly declares.

Tashok snorts. She understands that Alesan is a child, and one with a bit of a competitive streak at that, but this is absurd in a way only a child can be that she can’t help but feel immense love at his claim.

“Let’s not waste any time, then…” Tashok holds out her hand, leading him to the bedroom.

She peeks in.

“Everyone ready?” she asks.

“Yep!” Sofie sits cross-legged on the bed.

* * *

Tashok slips into the back room of the house a few hours after the reading lesson, where Lucien is busy taking notes from a book and into his research journal. The lesson was a bit long and took a lot of concentration and reiterations on her part, but it paid off with her children’s progress and interest. Afterwards while cooking the family’s supper

“Hey Lucien.” Tashok sits across from him, fiddling with her hands nervously.

“Good afternoon.” Lucien spares her a quick glance and smile before returning to his work. His head snaps back up as he registers Tashok’s look of unease. “What’s wrong?”

“I need your advice.” Tashok says quickly, leaning onto her hands as she looks to the side.

“Of course.” he marks his page with a bookmark and sets the books aside. “How can I help?”

“Okay. Um… How do I start…” Tashok rubs the back of her neck uncomfortably. “So… you know how Inigo thinks I’m someone else…”

“He believes you’re an old friend he killed, yes.” Lucien nods, face becoming grim and sympathetic. “I know this is a hard subject for him.”

“That’s the thing! He doesn’t believe I’m not whoever his friend was!” Tashok looks pained. “I’m not his real friend.”

“Of course you are! You may not be the one he believes you to be, but I’ve been following you long enough to know that your friendship is real.”

“But it’s built on a lie! He’s only my friend because he thinks I’m someone else. He’s only kind because he thinks he has to be! And I’m just… Selfish, I guess…”

“Tash you’re not selfish… Who told you this?” Lucien frowns.

“Wh- no one! It’s just obvious I am! I allowed myself to use Inigo for friendship by letting him believe a lie. He believes it so much even Langley couldn’t convince him. You know, the _seer_?”

At this point, Pearl has been alerted to his owner’s distress and has hopped onto the table to give her head boops across the chin.

“I remember.” Lucien nods, before grumbling mostly to himself. “Hard to forget…”

“If he knew I wasn’t his real friend, he would have never followed me…” Tashok continues to lament despite Pearl’s best efforts. “The whole friendship is built on false pretences!”

This gives Lucien pause.

“Perhaps…” he concedes, and it stings. Tashok flinches back, eyes falling to the ground. Her eyes, of course, sting with tears. “However, I doubt he would have stayed if the friendship between the two of you wasn’t real. That spell… it works because of the two-way connection you two share, right?”

“That’s not the point…” she finally lifts her hand to respond to Pearl’s affections. “He thinks I’m his friend now, but I’m not.”

“Tash…” Lucien sighs sympathetically. “You are. You may not have started off as the friend he thought you were, but I’d be surprised if he didn’t wish to stay by your side. Anyone with eyes and a bit of sense in them will see it. So yes, perhaps your friendship didn’t start the way either of you wanted it to, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

“Right… Well…” Tashok looks unconvinced.

“Promise me one thing, Tash.” Lucien says softly. “Whatever happens, you must be there for him. Be there for him when he finally realizes. Tell him that even if your friendship started with a misconception, you’re his friend. Always.”

“But…”

“Is that true?” Lucien doesn’t relent.

“Of course I’m his friend… I just. How could he still want me around, after?”

Lucien gives her a small smile.

“Well…” he thinks for a moment. “He’s been by our side for quite a while now. It’s hard not to connect with someone when you travel with them so much. And I recall him telling Langley that you’ve saved him many times. You keep sweet rolls on you just in case he wants one, despite you never eating them at all. You encourage him to sing his songs, and even sing along to them sometimes. You laugh at his jokes, especially when they pertain to archery and always make sure he, well, we, have plenty of potions before we enter some mysterious cave. That’s all you, not the other person he thinks you are.”

Lucien leans back.

“Besides… I’d like to think that we’re all friends.” he says assuredly, if not a bit shyly. “We three make quite the team.”

Tashok relaxes slightly with a small smile. Her eyes are still glistening, however.

“Team Lucien?” she grins at Lucien.

“Yes, quite!” Lucien chuckles.

“It does have a nice ring to it… Team Tash is a bit too alliterative, and Team Inigo is a little long. Then again… Maybe we can call ourselves Team Inigo once we deal with the Doom Strider. I’m sure that, whoever he is, we’ll take care of it as long as we work together.”

“We make a good team.” Lucien smiles.

“Yeah, we do.”

“Go us.”

A comfortable silence falls, until Lucien breaks it once more.

“Would _Langley_ be team Inigo?” Lucien asks with a hint of humour.

“Obviously.” Tashok smirks. “He wouldn’t be Team Tash: he can’t stand me. And did you notice how he barely acknowledged you back at his cabin? He’s team Inigo all the way.”

“This whole Doomstrider business must be weighing down on him…” Lucien’s tone shifts to concern.

“No kidding.” Tashok lets out a breath. “Some great big world-ending threat is coming, and you’re one of the few people who can do anything about it? I don’t envy him. I freak out just being the Arch-Mage…”

“Who is barely at the College.” Lucien adds with a smirk.

“I know, I know… I was actually thinking of leaving at the same time as you. Head off to Windhelm to see you off, then to the College to check up on everything.”

“That would be lovely! And a lot less lonely… I was dreading being in Windhelm alone.”

“Alone? What about the lovely company there?” Tashok teases.

“Very funny.” Lucien doesn’t laugh.

“Some people are pretty nice there…” Tashok points out.

“Not nearly enough. They like you because of all the favours you did for them, but for the most part they’re quite rude**.”

“They could really learn a thing or two from you about manners.”

“Exactly. Though I do feel that just trying to go for a simple «please and thank you» would be beyond what they can muster. Especially «please».”

“Don’t think I’ve heard it very often since I moved here…” Tashok chuckles before standing up with Pearl. “I’ll leave you to it. I bet you wanna get this done before packing up.”

“I’ll see you later!”

She returns to her alchemy lab, which is slowly starting to look like a proper lab rather than a quickly constructed tower. Many of the additions to her home are becoming much better looking as she spends some time each day working on improving her home.

* * *

“Are you sure you kids want to come along?” Tashok asks her small group of children, all with their clothes packed in various bags. “Even with the carriage, it’s a long ride…” she turns to Alesan and Sofie. “You two know this… You’ve done it before.”

“We wanna go with you!” Ma’isha jumps up excitedly. “I wanna see the places you go too!”

“I wanna say hi to Eirid!” Sofie smiles. “And Brelyna. And Onmund. And J’Zargo!”

“I wanna meet Urag the librarian!” Alesan’s eyes are practically shining. “I wanna see how many books the College has.

“You know he probably won’t let you touch them…” Tashok tries to warn him.

“I don’t need to touch them to count.” Alesan presses on. “I bet there’s at least thirty books.”

This makes Lucien chuckle.

“I… I kind of want to see the College…” Lucia mumbles shyly.

“Yeah! We wanna see the place you own.” Ma’isha says.

“I don’t own the College you guys…” Tashok tries to suppress an amused smile. “I’m just, uh, the boss? I guess?”

“We wanna see it!” Alesan chirps.

Tashok thinks for a moment.

“Mh… Well, we are taking the carriage already, which is way safer…” she debates with herself. “But it’s so cold here… Surely Eastmarch and Winterhold will be just terrible… Oh and the war! They’ve stayed off the main roads but I can’t risk you all getting stuck in the middle of a battlefield.”

“We can handle it.” Sofie assures her. “You and Mr. Inigo are very strong too…”

“Please!” the children all chime in together, giving them the best puppy eyes they can muster. Well, kitten eyes in Ma’isha’s case.

“Malacath give me strength you’re so adorable….” Tashok mumbles into her hands. “Alright, alright you can come…”

A chorus of cheers explodes from the children as they quickly grab their things and run outside.

“Be careful, don’t run there could be ice!” Tashok runs after them.

Lucien turns to Illia and Erandur, who are watching with amusement.

“Well, it will certainly be much more quiet out here.” he says.

“Indeed. I might make a small trip to Markath.” Erandur says.

“I’m staying right here.” Illia announces. “No way I’m going out into that cold. Besides, ever since Tashok added the alchemy tower I’ve been able to experiment with the ingredients I picked before the snow covered everything in sight. Should keep me busy.”

“We will return before you know it.” Inigo says with a wink.

“I’ll keep Pearl happy and fed in the meantime.”


	2. Eastmarch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family see Lucien off to Solstheim and spend time around Eastmarch.

“Do you have everything you need? Your books? Your keys?” Tashok frets over Lucien as he steps onto the boat.

“I’ve doubled, tripled, quadrupled, quintupled, s-… Well you get the point.” Lucien assures her. “I’ve checked many times. I’m quite certain I’ve got all I need.”

“Alright. Don’t forget to sleep at the estate in Raven Rock. No point in buying a room when it’s just sitting there.”

“Of course. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Lucien disappears bellow deck with a wave, leaving Tashok, the children and Inigo on the docks.

Tashok glances about and is suddenly hit by her memory of the first time she stepped onto these docks.

“This is so strange…” she says, turning to her family. “A few months ago I’d just gotten here, tired, cold and scared as ever… Confused too. I was supposed to dock in Solitude, you know…”

“I’m glad you came here instead.” Sofie hugs Tashok’s waist, looking up to her happily. “I wouldn’t have met you, if you went where you were meant to.”

“Then I don’t think I was meant to go to Solitude at all.” Tashok bends a knee to hug Sofie back. She turns to her other children. “Now, who wants to go to the market? I warn you, there may not be much, but I’ll buy you one sweet each.”

“You’re the best!” Ma’isha jumps up.

Just as they turn, Tashok sees that Alesan and Sofie, being tiny as short as they are, are about to collide with an Argonian, whose view us blocked by a pile of logs he’s carrying.

“Look out!” she leaps and picks up her two children with each arm.

“Goodness!” the Argonian yelps. “Uh… Thank you for that. I didn’t see them, there…”

“No worries.” Tashok sets her children down by her side. “I suppose we are crowding the docks a bit…”

She glances about and scratches her cheek, flustered.

“It’s fine. I’d much rather have you lot around than Shatter-Shield yelling at us while we work for barely anything…” he sighs.

“What do you mean?” Tashok cocks her head to the side.

“We're used to getting by on scraps, but the Shatter-Shields want everything for nothing.”

She briefly recalls the family, mainly because they recently lost their daughter to an untimely death. She recalls the other daughter lamenting the death of her twin as well as doing her best to lift the parents’ spirits with an amulet of Arkay and a bottle of mead. The father, Torbjorn, has taken a liking to Tashok after this and makes a point to greet her every time she passes through Windhelm.

“Maybe they’re just stressed out? Since they’re in mourning, and whatnot.” Tashok suggests.

“If only.” the Argonian frowns. “Torbjorn was unpleasant long before. I wish someone would beat the coin out of his fat fists…” he loses some of his steam when he sees Tashok lift her hands placatingly, nodding her head towards her children. “He clings to every Septim. He says an Argonian's labor is only worth a tenth of a «proper Nord worker»... My people are not slaves!”

“I could try and talk to him, if you’d like.” Tashok offers. “It’s the least I can do.”

"You can try, but we've gotten nowhere talking to him ourselves.” the Argonian sounds doubtful. “Still, I appreciate the concern.”

She watches him walk away, arms still filled with the logs he had been cutting.

“What about our sweets?” Alesan asks.

“Oh don’t worry.” Tashok reassures him with a chuckle. “You’re all getting something. You too, Inigo.”

Inigo’s eyes sparkle at the promise of a sweetroll. Tashok feels a rush of affection at his excitement, but it’s soon squashed by the guilt she feels as her mind helpfully reminds her about her mistaken identity.

Inigo must have noticed her smile falter, as he quickly jumps in.

“Do not worry my friend, I will make sure that you too, get something nice.” he says as they climb up the steps. “Perhaps the Dunmer merchant has some elk jerky.”

Tashok doesn’t want his attempts at cheering her up to be in vain, and so forces her best smile. If it's unconvincing, Inigo doesn’t mention it.

“This is where I first met Mama!” Sofie points out to the side as they cross the large doors leading from the docks to the city.

“Oh.” Lucia says as a reply.

“Yeah. She bought some of the flowers I picked.” Sofie says gleefully.

“I still can’t believe you had nightshade….” Tashok snorts happily.

“It just looked pretty! I didn’t know it was poison…” Sofie defends herself.

“They _are_ pretty…” Tashok agrees.

They pass by Nils on their way to the market, who nods at her as greeting before looking at her mischievously.

“When I'm cutting wood, I pretend there's an Imperial soldier's head on the stump.” he tells her.

“By the gods, don’t say things like that in front of my kids!” she gasps.

“Your…?” his eyes fall to the many children behind her. “Oh, uh. My bad… Didn’t you have just the one?” he motions to Sofie. “Where’d you get all those other ones?”

“I mean, I travel…” Tashok said. “You’d be surprised how many children need a home.”

“And you can afford all of them?” Nils quirks an eyebrow, doubtful.

“Uh, yes…? I’m an alchemist and occasional adventurer… That brings in more than enough money. Besides, I can fish and hunt small game, so overall I’d like to think we’re pretty well set up.”

“Well, good for you then.” Nils goes back to chopping the wood, giving the children a small smile.

“Right. Have a nice day!” Tashok calls out as she leads her children to the market before grumbling. “Who even says something like that at random…”

Alesan and Ma’isha end up splitting a few slices of apple pie while Sofie and Inigo get a sweetroll. The only one who hasn’t picked anything yet is Lucia.

“Do you see anything you’d like?” Tashok bends down to talk to her. “I can lift you up if the counter’s too high.”

“I, uh…” Lucia’s head is barely peeking above the edge of the counter, before she looks to Tashok, unsure. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“That I get a treat… I didn’t do anything.”

Tashok’s lips set into a thin line.

“You don’t have to.” she says. “This is just for fun. If you don’t want something sweet, you can always ask for something else. If you’re not hungry, we can save it for later.”

Lucia looks to the side, still hesitant, and her eyes fall on a honey nut treat.

“Would you like this?” Tashok asks. “It’s not a problem at all, I promise.”

“Um. Okay…” Lucia presses close to Tashok, looking at the ground shyly. She lifts her head slightly when Tashok hands her the treat. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetie.” Tashok pets Lucia’s hair softly.

Tashok ends up browsing more of Aval’s wares as the children happily chat and try to get Inigo’s attention. She glances at them occasionally, careful to keep them within sight.

“We should head off to the inn…” she approaches them as she tucks some ingredients in her satchel. “The sun goes down quickly here, and I don’t fancy staying in the cold for long.”

“Ah. I see we must suffer more time in this place.” Inigo sighs. “This is where dreams come to die. I hope we do not spend more time than necessary here.”

“I know, I know. We’ll head for Narzulbur tomorrow morning.” Tashok leads them to the inn. “I’d rather not have my little ones exhausted.” she then smirks. “Besides, we’ll get to see Susanna…”

“She is the one thing worth coming to this city for.” Inigo concedes, before glancing down at Sofie. “Now that you are no longer here, of course.”

“People are mean to others here.” Sofie shrugs. “Falkreath is way better. ”

“Hehehe, yes it is.” Inigo smiles with pride.

Tashok pushes the door open, letting her little cavalry inside.

“Oh it’s you!” she hears Elda’s voice. “It’s been a while seen I’ve seen you. I was getting worried you’d finally gotten involved with something you couldn’t handle.”

“Not to worry!” Tashok flashes her a tusked smile as she motions to Inigo. “I’ve got great backup… Makes camping a lot safer, so I haven’t had to stop here as often.”

“And what happened to the blonde one? Is he alright?” Elda takes out a jug of mead for Tashok, knowing her preference. She is the one who got the Orc into the drink, after all.

“He is! I actually came to see him off. He’s working on his academic expedition… As for me, I’m hoping I can spend a while with my little ones.”

“Hmfp, they don’t look much like you…” she hears Hermir grumble from a seat in the corner.

Tashok turns to him with a flat incredulity.

“She obviously adopted them, you idiot!” someone yells out from the hall.

Tashok bends forward, trying to see who it’s coming from, but can’t quite see anyone.

“I uh… Well I can see that…” Hermir faltered.

“It’d be a bit strange if I had them myself…” Tashok snorts, smiling at Ma’isha. “I mean… If I had little Ma’isha myself I’d have been… Seven?”

“Also I’m a Khajiit.” Ma’isha points out to Hermir smugly.

“Anyhow…” Tashok pinches the bridge of her nose, cutting off the blacksmith before he can say anything else. She turns to Elda and approaches the counter. “Any room, or rooms, big enough for all of us?”

“There’s two side by side down at the end of the Hall.” Elda says. “I best not be hearing any yelling in the middle of the night.”

“You won’t.” Tashok assures her, glancing to the door opening and seeing Rolff enter. “Well, not from us anyways.”

“Alright, alright.” Elda takes the money. “You go on a head upstairs and make yourselves comfortable.”

“Don’t run you guys.” Tashok tells her children as they start going up the stairs. “That includes you, Ma’isha!”

“Alright…” Ma’isha, who was already halfway up the steps, grumbles.

“I mean it. People have food and drinks around here. Last thing we want is to crash into someone.

Susanna beams when she sees Tashok and Inigo come in.

“Hello, there handsome!” she smirks at Inigo, who coughs, flustered. She looks to Tashok. “You too, dearie.”

Susanna had quickly realized that Tashok gave her plenty of tips, flirting or not. So would Inigo, but Tashok suspects Susanna just enjoys speaking to him, genuinely. And that her flirting tended to fluster Tashok a bit too much to be rewarding.

“Hey there!” Tashok waves, making a beeline for Luaffyn, dropping a few coins in her request jar. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I could say the same.” Luaffyn smiles. “Any requests?”

“Mh…” Tashok thinks for a moment but doesn’t really have a preference. “Nope! Just play whatever you want. I’m sure it’ll sound great no matter what.”

“Ragnar the Red!” Sofie calls out from beside Tashok.

“I can do that…” Luaffyn nods before beginning her performance.

Tasho glances about and sees the man she was hoping to find: Torbjorn. He also locks eyes with her and invites her over next to him.

Things are great so far.

Tashok’s resolve almost wavers, worried about getting on the man’s bad side. But no, she told Scout-Many-Marshes she would speak to him, and so she will.

“Torbjorn, good evening.” she sits by his side. “How are you and the family holding up?”

“Ugh… It still hurts, but that’s to be expected, isn’t?” he sighs. “Best thing to do is try and move on.”

“It’ll become easier, after some time.” Tashok tells him honestly. She also remembers Nilsine’s words. “Just, make sure you don’t try to force it. Everyone mourns differently.”

“Right… Who’d you lose again?” he doesn’t sound accusatory.

“My… Well, calling them parents or even relatives isn’t strictly true. But I lost some of the people who helped raise me when I was younger. I don’t remember much from then, I was quite little, but King Baryna decided to open the ports to anyone and everyone coming from Iliac Bay, hoping to get rid of some opposition by hiring a bunch of Corsairs to attack. Well, an armada or Corsairs swarmed the city, coming in from the ports, killing a lot more than just the King’s opposition. We were the first in the line of fire, as it will. We managed to hide in he warehouses, but a lot of the workers didn’t make it.”

“That must have been frightening.”

“It was… I didn’t understand why they were attacking. Or what had happened to those who died. That’s when the others explained death to me.”

“How old were you?”

“…Six.”

“Well, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. It was a long time ago. I can’t imagine losing one of my children. It can’t be easy.” Tashok says.

“It’s not. And those damned boots aren’t helpin’ one bit.” Torbjorn scowls.

“Boots?” Tashok quirks her eyebrow as she glances at the man’s boots. “They look fine…”

“Not_ my _boots!" Torbjorn exclaims. "It’s you know…. Those boots.”

Tashok stares at him, confused. She glances towards her children to make sure all is well. He grunts.

“The scalebacks!” he huffs as if Tashok should have understood from the start.

“The… Argonians?” Tashok tries to guess, turning her attention back to him.

“Yeah yeah, them.” Torbjorn slouches in his chair. “Damn them… They barely do any work!”

“Truly?” Tashok says. “Everytime I’ve been there they seem hard at work, if not a bit tired…”

“Bah, aren't worth the septims I do pay them.” he dismissed. “I’ve half a mind to get some proper, good, Nord workers."

“How much is that? They might be having trouble making ends meet.” Tashok suggests. “I know how hard being a dock worker can be.”

“Used to be ten septims…” Torbjorn doesn’t notice the outrage on Tashok’s face. “But I brought it down to eight. Told ‘em I’d think about raising it again if they start takin’ their work seriously.”

“EIGHT?!” Tashok voice echoes throughout the top floor, startling everyone around her. Even Luaffyn stops playing and gapes.

Torbjorn’s surprise sobers him up as he stares at her, mouth opening and closing as the words, or excuses, die on his lips. The Orc before him looks positively appalled.

“Are you kidding me?!” she forces her voice to a reasonable volume. “You can’t even buy a meal for eight septims and you expect them to live on that?! And it was ten before? What in Nirn made you think this was in any way acceptable.”

“Like I said, they ain’t worth the septims I _do_ pay them…” Torbjorn starts.

“They’re people, Torbjorn.” Tashok frowns. “You need to pay them a fair wage. At least twenty five septims a day. Easily. Anything lower is just deplorable.”

“Twenty-?!” Torbjorn cuts himself off. He looks at the young Orc’s growing judgement and feels the slightest bit of shame. He sighs. “Well, my friend, if you think those boots needs more coin, I'll make it happen. But I'm doing this for you, not them.”

“Do it because it’s what’s right.” Tashok tells him harshly, still ticked off.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Alesan comes to see her, concern.

“Yes, dear.” she calms down for his sake. “What's going on? Are you hungry?”

“Not really… but…”

“Yes?”

“Can I have some cheese?”

Tashok nods and sifts through her small coin purse, dropping a few septims into her son’s hands. Pointedly more than a mere eight septims.

“Thanks!” Alesan skips away happily.

“You’ve got a boy too?” Torbjorn sounds genuinely intrigued.

“All of them are mine…” Tashok motions to the other children: Ma’isha smirking as Inigo gets bashful from Susanna’s flirting, Sofie talking to Lucia about the candle above the fireplace and Alesan disappearing downstairs.

“That’s, a… pretty big family.”

“I’m used to being around a lot of people.” Tashok smiles. “Between the dock workers, the few children they had, as well as my sibling… It was pretty crowded in the barracks.”

“Dock workers?” Tornjorn's eyes slide to her, intrigued.

“How do you think I knew what a fair wage was?” Tashok chuckles. “The dock workers were the ones who raised me. That’s why they were the first hit during the invasion.”

“What company did you work for?”

“Well, _I _never actually worked for them. I was a child and all, and once I turned fourteen I got an apprenticeship with an alchemist. Regardless, the whole dock system was tricky: the docks were owned by the city, but they left the managing to this one noble, Lord Benoit. The companies paid him for the services, and he paid the dock workers.”

“Sounds complicated…” Torbjorn grumbles.

“That’s the High Rock way!” Tashok laughs. “I rather enjoy the… simplicity here. Even with the cold, and some of the people who…” she glances at Torbjorn realizing what she’s about to say. “Well, yeah.”

“Some of the people who what?” Torbjorn frowns as he leans forward.

“It doesn’t matter…” Tashok blurted with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It happens in High Rock too, I just roll with it…”

“Someone giving you trouble? I’ll vouch for you.” Torbjorn says. "Whatever their problem is with you they can take it up with me."

“That’s very kind of you, but I doubt you can have a chat with the majority of people I encounter… I doubt it would change their minds anyways… Their problem is just the way I look, I think. Like I said! I can deal with it.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with all that.” the Nord huffs. “Next time someone gives you grief, give them a good swing. That’ll shut them up.”

“Oh goodness I could never!” Tashok gasps. “I mean, I’d be making things worse for myself at that point. First an outsider, and now a violent one at that?”

Torbjorn’s eyes widen with a dawning understanding.

“So, what do you do?” he asks.

“I ignore them, or correct them or something… If it’s directed at my friends I’ll be more, uh, vocal. But I’m used to it. I try to avoid them if I can help it. I’ve been pretty successful here! I haven’t even spoken to… you know...” she points to the floor, where Rolff can be heard ranting from below. “Ever since I got here.”

“As you should. He can have a pretty aggressive streak when he’s had too much.” Torbjorn warns her. “Only way you’ll shut him up is a fist to the mouth.”

“I highly doubt it will come to that.” Tashok huffs. “I’ll just… Keep avoiding him.”

“Besides, you’re not a Dunmer, so he’ll leave you alone.”

“Oh how lovely.” Tashok rolls her eyes, a bit glum. “Like it’ll make a difference in the end…”

A silence settles between them, and Tashok curses her comment.

“In the end?” Torbjorn. “What end?”

“Uh… Doesn’t matter.” Tashok’s voice is small as she sinks into her chair.

“You can tell me, no judgement.” the Nord assures her.

She pouts up to him worriedly before sighing.

“After the war…” she admits in a hushed tone. “If the Stormcloaks win, I’m not sure what will happen to me.”

“Why would anything happen to you?”

“Um…” Tashok looks to him, incredulous. She then points to one of her ears, which twitches. “Elf, here.”

“I’m sure Orcs will be fine…” Torbjorn says, despite not looking very sure of his statement at all.

“I’m not…” Tashok continues. “I heard Ulfric’s second in command talk about «driving out the elves», why should he make an exception for Orcs? We don't exactly have a good history of people leaving us alone.”

“I’d make sure he makes an exception for you. You’re a good lass.”

Tashok smiles at the man’s willingness to take her side, but looks down with a sad smile.

“That’s very kind of you.” she says. “But I don’t think I’d like that. Being an exception. All it takes is for one person to think I’m like all the others… Which I am, mind you.”

She goes to drink once more, but finds the bottle empty.

“Well this turned grim…” she looks to Torbjorn apologetically. “I’ll be right back. Gonna get more mead.”

Tashok slinks down the stairs and pointedly ignores Rolff’s rambling as she orders another two bottles: one mead, one ale, and brings them back up.

* * *

Tashok wakes up as _something _collides with her temple, somewhat harshly.

She blinks herself awake and understands what hit her: Sofie’s elbow. The small Nord is huddled between her and Lucia, while Ma’isha and Alesan are in the adjacent room with Inigo.

The Orc grunts softly, wondering what the time is… Why are there no windows in here? She can’t wiggle her way out of the bed considering both children were at least partially draped over her.

Tashok closes her eyes, focussing on the feeling of her children’s little bodies snuggled up against her and smiles. She carefully moves Sofie’s elbow to the side so that it’s in a safer, not-close-to-her-face, position and rests her own arm over the young Nord’s shoulders.

Sleep doesn’t come back to her, not now that’s she’s awake, but just laying down while listening to her children’s stead breathing and the sounds of the wind hitting the walls outside is relaxing enough.

She isn’t quite sure how much time passes, but she feels Lucia move around at some point, most likely having woken up but like her, opting to stay within the comfort of the bed. Overtime,Tashok begins to hear bustling down the hall, brisk steps coming and going from the other side of her door as well as the occasional sound of dishes clanking against each other.

Once the sounds of various voices begin to crop up, Tashok decides this is a fine time to get up. She shakes the two girls awake gently by the shoulders before slipping off the bed.

Within the hour, the group has eaten and is exiting the city, much to Inigo’s delight.

“We could not have gotten out of there any faster…” he lets out a sigh of relief. “Now, you said you wanted to pass by the nearby stronghold?”

“Yes! I’m hoping to get a bow for Ma’isha.” Tashok winks at Ma’isha, who beams at the promise. “Since she’s much smaller, I can’t just make her use the regular bows.”

“It would be better to start with something her size.” Inigo agrees with a chuckle. “I recall trying to use my mother’s bow back when it was as tall as I was…”

“If we’re going to be working from the start, I want her to have the best foot forward.”

The route to Narzulbur takes longer than when Tashok and her companions travel, on account of the many breaks they take to ensure that the children remain lively and well. Tashok takes the resting opportunities to collect various ingredients around the area, unable to remain still for more than 10 minutes at a time. In fact, they opt to stay at Kynesgrove for the night in order to refuel and finish the trip to the stronghold in the morning.

Tashok notices Yatul watching over the walls of the stronghold as usual and waves to her from a distance. The Orc ranger raises a hand in response, though she doesn’t mirror the enthusiasm of the young redhead. She studies Tashok deeply, as if considering some strange theory that somehow relates to her. In fact she looks like Lucien when he finds something particularly puzzling. Or «Fascinating!», as he would say, Tashok muses with a smile.

“Welcome back.” Yatul says with her usual flat delivery. “Are you here to trade or simply to see us?”

“A bit of both…” Tashok smiles as she crosses the gates. “I'd hope Dushnamub could help me create a bow for my little one. I promised her I’d take her hunting one day, but getting a hang of archery needs to come first.”

“You hunt often?” Yatul seems interested.

“I try to, though I focus on small game.” Tashok guides the children inside. “I’m not very good at butchering anything bigger than a rabbit.”

“I could teach you, if you wish.” Yatul suggests.

“You would? That’d be lovely! I’ve never had anyone teach me how to do that… Maybe all I need is an expert!”

The corners of Yatul’s lips twist upwards at the compliment.

“I’ll bring you over when I butcher yesterday’s hunt” she says.

Just as Tashok opens her mouth to thank her, the heavy steps of Mahulahk’s Orcish armour grabs her attention.

“I thought I recognized your voice.” he brings a hand down on her shoulder, then looks to Tashok’s children. “And who are the little ones?”

“They’re my children!” Tashok says proudly. “This is Ma’isha, Lucia, Sofie and Alesan.”

“Mama’s going to teach me to hunt!” Ma’isha exclaims.

“That’s why I’m here, actually.” Tashok explains. “I’d like a bow that’s a bit smaller than the, uh, standard. I’ve gotten better at smithing since I first came here, but I don’t quite trust myself to make something that specific that yet.”

“I’m sure Dushmanub will be happy to help. He seems to have taken quite a liking to you.” Mahulahk says, his tone insinuating.

Tashok could swear she sees Yatul tense up at this, though it could just be because of the particularly strong chill of the winter wind.

“That’s great to hear!” Tashok doesn’t pick up on it one bit.

“Right well, you know where to find him…” Mahulahk looks on to the children, who follow Tashok closely as they look around in curious awe. “Archer.” he nods as a greeting to Inigo.

Tashok huddles her children closer as they cross the bridge connecting the mine and forge to the rest of the stronghold. Dushnamub lifts his eyes at the sound and movement before lighting up at the sight of Tashok.

“My friend.” he greets her. “It’s good to see you. You still carry the weapon we made, I see…”

“Oh, yes.” Tashok pats her dagger. “I enchanted it too.”

“You did? Let me see.” he holds out his hand and hums in approval as he examines it. “Even deadlier this way… Though it could use some sharpening… No matter, I can do that for you. I doubt you’d come all the way here for just this, however.”

“You’re right about that! I actually need a bow made for Ma’isha here.” Tashok motions to the small Khajiit, who waves excitedly. “I’m planning on teaching her to hunt.”

“Truly? Is she your…” he glances at Inigo. “Niece?”

“Daughter, actually… All of them are my children. Aside from Ma’isha we have Lucia, Sofie and Alesan.”

Dushnamub laughs without a trace of bite.

“You’ve practically got your own stronghold in the making!” he grins.

“Oh it’s not nearly as fortified as this…” Tashok smiles as she leans over one of the posts. “Wait, who’d be the chief, me?”

“Stranger things have happened, I’m sure… Now,” Dushnamub approaches Ma’isha. “You stand still. I’ll need to have an idea of how tall you are if I’m to make this properly…”

Ma’isha follows the order to a letter, the only thing about her that’s moving being her eyes as she follows Dushnamub’s movements as well as her whiskers blowing in the wind. Meanwhile, the other three children drag Inigo away to play hide and seek down by the gate.

“Have you ever considered actually living in a stronghold?” Dushnamub asks Tashok.

“I’ve asked myself what my life would be like if I grew up in one, sure…” Tashok ponders the possibility. “I figured I’d probably still do what I do best: archery and alchemy.”

“I mean, would you consider settling into one now?” Dushnamub clarifies.

The suggestion takes her by surprise as she looks over to her family in the distance, as well as Ma’isha, who is listening intently.

“I… Don’t think I could.” she says. “I’m pretty sure I’d be breaking a whole lot of unwritten rules.”

“Right… Outsider and all.” Dushnamub looks disappointed for a split second.

"Besides, I could do without the whole... Fight to the death for leadership part."

"It's not a requirement you know." Dushnamub explains. "We tend to try to seem... uh, intense, to outsiders to keep them away, but for the most part, anyone can challenge the chief, and he doesn't _have_ to be killed. It's actually bad faith to kill a good or decent chief in battle. The only time it's seen as acceptable is if the chief was a tyrant, deserving of death. A good chief will either step down when he feels himself becoming old, which then prompts a competition between the people who want to be chief, or will be challenged and accept defeat graciously."

"Oh... That makes more sense." Tashok chuckles. "I feel silly for believing it."

"It keeps strangers from meddling with us."

Tashok hums in agreement before adding. "Still, I don't think I'm cut out for any leadership yet. The College business is just a fluke."

“I doubt that." Dushnamub says. "But perhaps it’s best this way. I heard Yatul and Bolar speaking about you a few weeks ago.”

“Heh… Good things I hope.” Tashok chuckles, though it dies out as Dushnamub’s expression becomes guarded. “D-did I do something wrong?”

“Not that I know of…” Dushnamub says. “It’s in our nature to mistrust strangers, but Yatul was the one to invite you in in the first place. They said they were… Concerned by your level of influence on the people here.”

“Influence?” Tashok quirks her eyebrow.

“Well, think about it: you’ve made yourself known to Bolar through your interest in our people as well as your options and poisons. Yatul and Urog share a bit of kinship with you because of your fighting style while my father seems to enjoy you… cheerfulness. It breaks the bleak cycle of mourning ever so slightly, I think.”

“Is this bad?”

“It’s new territory, that’s all. I suspect my aunts are worried you’re going to influence my father to stand up for himself of make decisions without running it by them beforehand.”

“I hardly have that much power.” Tashok says. “I mean, I’m barely here!”

“You’d be surprised.” Dushnamub begins gathering the materials. “Alright, kid, you can move.”

“Can I go play with the others?” Ma’isha asks.

Tashok turns to Dushnamub, who nods. This is all the permission Ma’isha needs before she starts bolting away.

“Don’t run on the bridge!” Tashok blocks her way before she gets too close. “I mean it, Ma’isha. You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“Yes mama…” Ma’isha grumbles and makes a point of taking slow but long steps.

Tashok watches her go as she wrings her hands nervously, both because she wants to ensure she listens to her instructions as well as to avoid the strange turn the conversation had taken.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Dushnamub tells her. “Just… Stay alert, will you?”

“Alert?” Tashok pushes down the concern mounting within her.

“I told you I think it’s strange that all the wives my father has had died.” Dushnamub says quietly. “I suspect there’s more to it than bad luck… But exactly what is going on, I don’t know. I just. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, I’ll be alright.” Tashok tries to convince him as much as herself. “I’ve faced a lot, since the first time we met…”

“Do tell.”

“Well… Try Dragon Priest draugrs for one…”

Dushnamub stops his work to gape at her.

“As in, the Dragon Priest from the Nord legends?!” he asks.

“Seems like it… Look.” Tashok fishes out the few Dragon Priest masks from her pack. “The worst one by far was this guy… Morokei.”

Tashok hand shakes as she looks into the empty eyes of the mask.

“I had to battle him in order to retrieve this legendary staff. I wasn’t alone of course but… Well we almost died.” she stuffs it away quickly.

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a staff. Legendary or not.” Dushnamub snorts.

“It was.” Tashok agrees, rolling her eyes at the entirety of the incident. “But I needed it to stop a Thalmor set on, oh I’m not even sure but it was something bad, who was also half-possessed by a strange relic we found in Saarthal.”

“We?”

“Myself and the other mages at the College of Winterhold.” Tashok explains. “They made me the Arch-Mage after that.”

“See what I mean! You’d make a great chief, no doubt about it.” Dushnamub smirks. “You’d just need to find a mate as strong as you.”

“Oh I’m not _that_ strong… I don’t even want the position, honestly… I don’t think I’m made for any of that grandiose stuff. Guess finding someone on the same line as me wouldn’t be too hard then… Just find a regular person, like me… Not that I’m focused on that right now. I’m just trying to make sure the children are happy and fed.”

“You’re doing a fine job so far.” Dushnamub assures her as he continues to work on the bow. “And you’re humble. That’s a good thing to be.”

“It’s not being humble if I’m just stating the truth.” Tashok shrugs.

Dushnamub simply chuckles, focussing his attention on his work. Occasionally, he asks Tashok to fetch him some material or an instrument, and to help him keep something still as he works. “Are you hungry?” Tashok asks him after some time. “You’ve been at it for a while…”

“I wouldn’t say no to some bread and cheese…” Dushnamub grins. “Would you go get some from the longhouse?”

“Already on it!” Tashok runs down the bridge, but remembers her own warning to Ma’isha and opts to slow down. Must set a good example.

She slips past Mauhulakh’s chair and into the longhouse. When she comes out food in hand, he quirks his eyebrow questioningly.

“For Dushnamub.” she offers as explanation.

Mauhulakh seems pleased with this, offering her a toothy grin as she goes back to the forge. Eventually she excuses herself to check up on her family.

“And then, my mom shot the sober-cat right in the eye!” Alesan explains excitedly at an amused but interested chief.

“Is that so?” Mauhulakh looks up to her as she approaches.

“Yes. Such a waste of an ingredient that was…” Tashok sighs wistfully. “I assume this is about our trip from Dawnstar to Falkreath.”

“It is indeed.” Inigo says.

“I take it you’re more of an archer, if the stories your little ones have been telling me are true.” Mauhulakh says.

“Mh, yes. I always have a bow on me, if not I can summon it up.” Tashok takes a seat nearby. “Only issue is that I hurt my shoulder. Shooting arrows with only one arm doesn’t work very well.”

“You never know when you could get injured. How good are you with one-handed weapons?”

“Not very.” Tashok admits. “I’m alright with daggers, but anything else is beyond me.”

Mauhulakh stands up quickly.

“Well, we can’t have that now!” he smirks. “Why don’t I show you a thing or two?”

“I- Are you sure?” Tashok blinks in surprise at the offer.

“Of course…” he clasps her on the shoulder. “I never liked those big and bulky two-handed weapons either. Any chance I get to show another Orc my skills is a chance I’ll take. Do you have a dagger or a sword on you?”

“I do but…” Tashok pulls out her dagger. “It’s got a pretty nasty enchantment on it. I don’t want to use it on you.”

“Not a problem. Let’s get you a simple sword…”

For the next hour, Mauhulakh gleefully teachers his tricks to Tashok; starting with posture, basic swings and how to be mindful of your stamina while wielding one-handed weapons. Finally, he opts to teach her how to properly use a sword to parry and block incoming attacks. This doesn’t go as well as the other elements of his teachings, partly because the training is beginning to wear on Tashok, partly because Tashok’s first instinct is to cower at the oncoming attacks.

Mauhulakh knocks her down for at least the tenth time when Yatul and Urog come upon the scene.

“What in the world are you doing?” Yatul growls at the chief.

“Just training our outlander friend here…” he extends his hand to Tashok, helping her up.

“Don’t you think beating her to the ground in front of her family and follower sends the wrong message?” Yatul cocks her head to the side.

“I… Uh.” Mauhulakh falters.

“It’s fine!” Tashok smiles. “My kids always see me succeeding at what I do in front of them. I’m glad they get to see I struggle sometimes.”

“At least now you’re better than before.” Mauhulakh says. “Feel free to ask for more training or sparring whenever you come back.”

Tashok goes to answer, though it dies on her mouth as she breaths deeply. She holds up her hand, asking for a moment to catch her breath.

“What are you even teaching her?” Yatul approaches. “She’s already a much better hunter than you, so I don't see how she could benefit from this…”

“I may not be very good at hunting, but I can swing a sword.” Mauhulakh says defensively. “She told me about an injury that prevented her from using her bow. I don’t see the arm in teaching her some tricks.”

“Yeah I, huh…” Tashok huffs. “Learned a lot.”

“Well, I hope you still have enough of your bearings left to learn how to butcher game properly…” Yatul grabs Tashok’s arm and brings her towards one of the huts. “Come on…”

“Oh, um… Alright…” Tashok twists around. “I’ll see you again soon!”

Yatul brings her into the nearby hut, a large dead elk laid on the table next to Urog.

“Now, I’m only going to explain this once, so pay attention.” Yatul says.

“What if I have questions?” Tashok asks.

“You can ask questions…” Yatul sighs before getting to work on her demonstration.

Once the demonstration is over, Tashok tucks away her book for note-taking and goes to her family.

“All done.” she smiles.

“Are you going to be able to hunt deer and elk now?” Sofie asks.

“Should be. We’ll find out once we’re home.” Tashok glances about and sees Dushnamub inspecting Bolar’s many potion and poison bottles as he makes idle conversation. His eyes fall on her and he grins.

“Excellent, you’re back.” he says as he strides to her with a new energy to his step. He picks up something from the table on the way - the bow! - and reaches her. "I wanted to show it to both of you..."

Ma'isha is practically vibrating from excitement as he lifts up the bow to show it off.

"I've padded the handle so it's easier to grip, and more comfortable in the winter..." he explains as he hands the bow to Ma’isha.

"Oh it's perfect thank you!" Ma'isha grabs the bow quickly, looking it over excitedly before throwing her arms around Dushnamub's waist. "Thank you thank you!"

"Uh-oh, em..." he starts, looking to Tashok with wide eyes.

Before he can respond any further Ma'isha untangles herself and turns to Tashok, holding out the bow.

"Look! I have my own bow!" she jumps up.

"It's lovely..." Tashok smiles, then looks up to Dushnamub. "Do I give you the typical bow price or higher since it's custom-made?"

"Oh, not higher!" Dushnamub says. "I'd saw less: it used but less materials and was quicker to make. Say seventy five septims? Unless you have other things to trade with the tribe for it."

"I've got meat, ingredients and potions. As well as some crafting materials..." 

The stronghold Orcs look to each other, discussing the options briefly.

"Why don't you show us here?" Bolar motions to the table.

Tashok lays out the items, and after some back and forth conversation, they settle on an exchange as well as twenty septims. They exit the stronghold, heading back to Kynesgrove as Tashok waves them goodbye and Ma'isha clutches her bow happily.


	3. Winterhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tashok passes through Winterhold and catches up with her friends, before she ultimately has to catch up with her work.

Tashok stretches her stiff muscles as she prepares to step off the carriage. No matter how much, or how little all things considered, time she spent around Winterhold, the cold never gets easier to face. It’s nothing like her home in Falkreath, where the cold is still as intense, but tends to be kept at bay with the right amount of layers and a generous slathering of her warmth balm.

In Winterhold and Windhelm, the Sea of Ghosts’ humidity and strong winds ensure that the cold bypasses any and all protection, settling bone-deep. For some reason, Winterhold felt much worst than Windhelm, if not marginally.

Her children, who were curled up beneath her arms shiver as she lifts them to stretch, opening their current make-shift tent up. Ma’isha and Sofie huddle closer to the side, against Inigo.

“We’re almost there!” the carriage driver calls out over the howling wind.

“Is the College warm?” Alesan looks up to Tashok.

“Much more than this, I can assure you.” Tashok wraps her arm back around him.

“Good…” he nuzzles into her arm.

The few citizens of Winterhold watch with interest at the arrival of a carriage. Some of them lose their interest once they see it’s Tashok and Inigo visiting once more, while others are still intrigued by the extra passengers.

Sonja pauses her carrying of forging items to watch them come through.

“Hello Arch-Mage!” she runs up to the carriage. “How was your trip?”

Tashok looks down at the girl, unfortunately not remembering her name. She fumbles nervously for a second before settling on something safe.

“Oh, hello again!” Tashok jumps off the carriage and begins helping her children down. “It was cold, but no battles, not even in the distance.”

“I’m glad to hear it! You’ve been gone for quite some time now. Is there something wrong with the College? I hope not!”

The girl was undoubtedly going to continue talking, when the blacksmith’s voice rings out from the side.

“Sonja!” he yells from a distance. “Hurry up with the ingots! These hinges won’t get made on their own.”

“Coming!” Sonja answers him, turning to Tashok before rushing away. “Sorry, sorry!”

Tashok chuckles at the teenager’s excitement as she leads her family up the now-repaired bridge leading to the College.

“Is that the Sea of Ghosts?” Alesan asks.

“Sure is… It’s pretty big.” Tashok tells him.

“Why is it called that?” Ma’isha asks, getting excited as a thought occurs to her. “Is it haunted?”

“Erm…”

“I think it’s because the wind that comes from it howls a lot…” Lucia suggests.

“Oh that makes sense.” Ma’isha nods approvingly. "Not as cool..."

"There could still be ghosts!" Alesan says.

Arriving into the courtyard, Sofie skips up in front of them, spinning around with a wide grin.

“This is the courtyard, you guys!” she tells her siblings. “Be careful there’s a lot of ice…”

“Wow! It’s big!” Alesan looks around.

“Would you like to see the Arch-Mage’s room?” Tashok suggests. “We’ll need to drop off our things too. Just be careful not to touch anything without asking. Some of the things here could hurt you.”

Tashok’s eyes linger on Ma’isha and Alesan, hoping the words sink in.

“I won’t touch a thing!” Alesan assures her as Ma’isha nods fervently.

Tashok keeps the children close to her, placing herself between them and the Hall of the Elements. She trusts her fellow mages well enough, but aside from Sofie most of the children don’t know about the risks associated with magic, and that this area is used for practicing spells often. They of course, peek over to try and get a look at the College members while Tashok guides them to the staircase.

The children’s eyes widen as they take in the Arch-Mage’s quarters, unsure what to let their eyes fall on. True to their promise, the children walked around, looking at almost everything curiously but refraining from touching anything.

“You stayed here?!” Alesan asks.

“Well, no… I stayed in the Hall of Attainment downstairs.” Tashok explains as she drops their baggage down. “The Arch-Mage before me died, so this is mine now, technically… Not that I spend a lot of time here. I’ll bring in some extra beds so we can all sleep in here whenever we come together.”

She gives them a quick tour of what is risky to touch and what can be fiddled with, her children clearly making small notes in their minds as she speaks. They tend to have more than enough toys and distractions to prevent them from getting too curious about other items.

Tashok eventually turns her attention to Inigo, who is busy munching on a sweetroll as he sits and glances about.

“Fancy.” he says between two bites.

“Bit too fancy for me.” Tashok replies, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. “You can relax here for a bit, I suspect I’ll stick around here for a bit.

“Alright, but if I start glowing, I’m going to leave.” Inigo says, partly joking though mostly not.

Tashok snorts.

“Haven’t heard of that yet, but with enough luck, or bad luck I suppose, anything’s possible!”

Tashok sets her satchel on the small wooden table and pulls out a few books, flipping one open to grab her small note. She’d made a list of the things she had to do once she’d return to the College, worried about forgetting something.

She scans the list, working through what she could do first, when she feels a tug at her sleeve. She looks to see Sofie.

“Can we play with our marble game in here?” she asks.

“Of course! It’s probably the best spot for it, really.” Tashok explains. “Less odds of wandering into someone’s experiment. You know the way here, though. Just make sure that if you leave the room, leave together.”

She looks to the rest of the children, raising her voice to address them as well.

“You heard that, right?” she asks. “If you want to explore, stay with Sofie.”

“Okay Mama!” Ma’isha smiles.

Tashok strides down the stairs as she hears her children setting up their game, headed first for the Arcaneum.

Urag glances at her for a split second as she steps in, going back to the book he’s reading, until his mind catches up to exactly who is in the Arcaneum.

“You’re back!” he looks back up to her. “I trust all is well?”

“Well enough, yes!” Tashok approaches the desk. “Is… Is Mirabelle better?”

A deep sigh.

“Well, she hasn’t gotten worse, so that’s that.” he closes his book. “I tried to get books from High Rock regarding prolonged unconsciousness. A few newer books refer to it as a coma. Sounds more straightforward, in my opinion. Colette’s been on them for weeks now.”

“I’ve tried looking too…” Tashok’s ears droop. “No luck either.”

“Don’t fret over it. You’ve got enough on your plate as is…”

“But I can still help! I’m sure I could’ve done something different to give her a better fighting chance… I…”

Tashok thinks to the fact that she and Onmund stopped Ancano from foolishly succumbing to his fever. What if she hadn’t intervened? Would Onmund have been able to pick the lock himself? Would he have noticed anything amiss? If the fever had taken Ancano then none of the problems would have happened. Mirabelle would be healthy and walking about, the Arch-Mage - the three guards killed! - would still be alive.

She winces as a wave of guilt hits her. How could she think this way?!

“It’s alright, kid.” Urag tells her. “You’ve done more in stopping Ancano than any of us. Even called out the Eye as the danger it was long before any of it happened.”

Because it was! It had been calling to her.

Trying to get her to turn on everyone.

Tashok stills for a second as if slapped.

Could it be what happened to Ancano? Could she be the one to have betrayed the College?

“Kid?” Urag’s frown deepens into one of concern.

“I need to sit down…” she drifts and flops into a nearby chair.

Her head spins as a plethora of different scenarios, each due to a small change in circumstances, flashes through her mind. What if she’d spent more time at the College? What if either Inigo or Lucien hadn’t been around, would anything have changed? Without Inigo’s spirit and Lucien’s kindness, would the harshness of Skyrim have succeeded in hardening her enough to kill without remorse?

She feels two hands pressing down on her shoulders, steadying her and bringing her back to reality. That’s when she realizes her eyes have watered from her irregular breathing while her hands have come to cover her mouth.

“Kid, are you back with me?” Urag asks her in a calm voice.

She nods shakily.

“Good. Now do us all a favour and try to breathe…”

She takes in one good breath and lets it out slowly.

“Whatever it is you’re worrying about, take it easy. You’ve done fine.” Urag assures her as he returns to his desk. “Once you feel better you might want to go around the College and talk to the others. I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you.”

“R-right…” she wrings her robes within her hands.

“Take your time.” he tells her as he flips his book open.

She does take some time, pulling her hood over her head and busying herself with reading the nearest book. Something about ancient Nord legends and myths… Her attention catches the word «Archmage».

A murdered Archmage, betrayed even. Whose name and story was erased as best as could be.

“Huh…” she flips the page to read more, but only sees a cliffhanger sentence.

_But perhaps the truth yet remains in some ancient ruin, waiting to be unearthed. For nothing is ever truly forgotten. _The page said.

She grabs a nearby quill and writes the name on her arm quickly.

“See something you like?” Urag quirks his eyebrow with the slightest smirk. He cranes his neckto see the title. “Ah, '_Lost Legends_'. Of course you’d find that interesting.”

“I- what do you mean?” Tashok doesn’t want to assume the worst, but she worries the comment is derogatory.

“You’re quite adventurous. With the resilience to back it.” Urag shrugs. “J’Zargo’s got the same curiosity but isn’t really built for living on the road. I’m sure you know all about that.”

Tashok chuckles at the many images of a rain-soaked J’Zargo looking incredibly put off.

“I’ll ask him if this interests him.” she waves the book. “At the very least I’m sure it’ll be a fun distraction. Can I borrow it?”

“You know the drill.” Urag nods towards the sign-in book.

She jots down her name, the name of the book and author as well as the date, after asking Urag because how can someone remember that just like that, then trots down to the main floor.

She’s about to open then large doors into the courtyard when J’Zargo’s voice rings out from behind her.

“I though I had seen you enter.” he says, leaning agains the open gates. “Were you even going to come greet J’Zargo?”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone.” Tashok smiles at her friend’s dramatics.

“You are Arch Mage here. There is very little you can do that will be considered a bother.” he takes her by the arm, leading her out. “Now tell me; how many skeletons have you set aflame since I last saw you?”

“None!”

“None?!” J’Zargo tilts his head in disbelief. “Somehow that is hard to believe.”

“I swear it! I’ve been at home, making potions, spending time with my children…”

“How dreadfully boring.”

“It’s not too bad. I like boring, it’s nice.”

“And yet you find trouble so easily. Are you sure you don’t seek out adventure, even a little bit?”

“Well, _perhaps_ a little…” Tashok smirks. “But I felt I needed a break. I haven’t been here for long and so much has changed.”

“Many things in your favour… This reminds J’Zargo…” J’zargo seems to gather his strengths. “While J’Zargo is great at many things, he knows he could do better with alchemy… Would it be possible for you to… Share some of your tricks?”

Tashok blinks, taking in the request.

“You want me to… Teach you? About alchemy?!” she blinks between each phrase, as if they don’t make sense.

“I do.” J’Zargo nods. “No one else here is as competent an alchemist. Besides, it makes me look quite good to outsiders, no? Studying under the Arch Mage herself.”

“I could show you some stuff I guess… I’m not that good, though. Was there any type of potions you had in mind?”

“Well, J’Zargo has heard of potions used to enhance certain magicks temporarily… Perhaps healing potions for when experiments go wrong. Oh, and you know how to make Invisibility potions, yes?”

“Oh, sure. Those are trickier to get the hang of. They’re the one thing I have a real knack for… They’re the whole reason I was chosen for the apprenticeship, since apparently beginners making invisibility potions properly is rare.”

“More reason to master it! Besides, you give yourself too little credit. I’m sure you’re an Orc of many talents.”

“I’ll do my best.” she finally relents. “But I don’t promise anything!”

“Of course not, and perhaps you could show J’Zargo how to make that… warmth balm. I am running quite low and unlike the others I cannot simply borrow more.”

“Oh, yes that once is pretty easy! Just need to get the order and ratio right.” Tashok nods to herself. “I’ll show you how to make magicka potions too.”

“Excellent! J’Zargo with be able to train more often, for longer!”

They lead each other into the Hall of Countenance, where Enthir greets her quickly before shuffling some items away out of view, completely failing at being inconspicuous. Tashok begins jotting down a list of each relevant ingredients and explaining what they do to J’Zargo, and what not to combine in his potions lest he get a healing potion that temporarily paralyzes him.

“J’Zargo never realized the complexity of alchemy.” J’Zargo leans against the alchemy table. “How do you remember it all?”

“A lot of it I don’t remember by heart, I keep it in here…” Tashok pulls out a thick leather journal with countless loose pages stuffed in, all held together by a strip of leather. “The ones I use often I just got used to. Now… Let’s say you want to make a potion that restores your magicka… Some ingredients are more expensive or hard to come by, but are stronger. Let’s start with something simple… Here we have either: giant lichen, a red mountain flower, grass pods, mora tapelina mushrooms and white cap mushroom. But — the grass pod, the flower and the white cap also ravage magicka, so you don’t want to mix those together. It’d be counter-productive. You’ll need at least two ingredients for it to work, so… Let’s take the giant lichen and the white cap. It’ll taste very earthy, but honestly who drinks potions for the taste…”

“J’Zargo is confused… How can an ingredient improve magicka but also worsen it?”

“Well… ingredients tend to be able to do different things, depending what they’re mixed up with… Kind of like how ash and water makes lye… but water and salt just makes salt water. Different things will have different effects with each other. Of course, you can use that to your advantage! For example, imp stool can both poison you and paralyze you, depending on what you use it with, so if I used, say, imp stool with nightshade, which also poisons you when mixed with imp stool, along with some crushed up canis root, which can paralyze you when mixed with imp stool… It makes a paralyzing and damaging poison! Pretty cool right? This is why knowing all the different facets of an ingredient is so great, because it lets you play around with different effects! I actually had some encounter with a necromancer and I used a…”

She trails off as J’Zargo lifts his hand calmly to halt her.

“This is interesting, but J’Zargo can only remember so much.” he explains. “Why don’t we begin with the magicka potions, yes?”

“Right! Sorry…” Tashok apologizes for her tangent.

“Not to worry. It is good to see you in your element.”

“R-right…” Tashok blushes. “So, um… Alchemy?”

* * *

Long after J’Zargo has gone away to digest the lesson, and test his potions while training, Tashok finally rushes down the stairs after making a few potions for herself, some to sell and others for personal use. She left most of them in a small chest in the alchemy room, as now she has a new mission: replenish her college’s supply of warmth balm. While working, J’Zargo had helpfully pointed out that with the winter now in full force across Skyrim, the College had somehow gotten even colder, despite the many heating enchantments around the structure serving as insulation.

Her quick speed however, comes to bite her when she crashed into another mage coming up the stairs, so quietly she only hears the breathing and steps as she’s already in her downwards momentum.

“Sorry!” she yells out as they collide.

“So sorry!” the other mage says a split second after her.

They both stumble, but ultimately manage to steady themselves. Tashok glances to the ground to make sure the jars of balm are still safe inside her satchel, raising her eyes to her colleague when she sees that they are.

“Oh, Orthorn, hi!” she smiles, before laughing nervously. “I have a habit of crashing into you… Don’t I? Sorry about that!”

“Arch-Mage!” his eyes widen. “I didn’t know you were back… Not that I mind! Not at all.”

“Haha, yep…” Tashok’s mind pings her as she remembers. “You stayed here after all?”

“Oh, uh, yes! I did, rather… I hope that’s alright! It’s just you’d said you’d vouch for me and after the incident you became the Arch-Mage so I figured it’d be okay for me to come back. Did I, mh, assume falsely?”

“No no! Not one bit! I’m glad you’re here. Beats the inn, right?” Tashok becomes flustered for a second. “I suppose as Arch-Mage I should as you how everything is going… Are you settling back alright?”

“I… I think I am.” Orthorn gives her a tentative smile. “Some of the older members still don’t trust me after I stole from the College but… the other apprentices are nice. Even J’Zargo, though he asked me to help him test some of his scrolls…”

“Don’t do it!” Tashok says quickly. “They may be better now, but I don’t want you burnt to a crisp if I can help it. I’ll tell him I’ll test them… Again.”

“Again?” Orthorn quirks his eyebrow, before getting embarrassed by his nonchalance with the Arch-Mage. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s alright! Why don’t you come with me as I hand these around… I’ll explain as we walk.”

“Uh, sure!”

He follows her somewhat sheepishly at first, but quickly relaxes as she launches herself into the story of her misfortune with J’Zargo’s scrolls. Of course, she decides to set the stage by telling Orthorn about the other misadventures she had helping her fellow apprentices — from being turned even more green than she already was, to having to do Enthir a favour in order to get Onmund’s amulet, which lead her into a vampire den where the scrolls were useful, but also terrifying.

“That’s awful!” Orthorn says as he looks torn between being mortified and amused. “I bet Enthir feels odd about you being the Arch-Mage now…”

“He’s mainly pretending it never happened.” Tashok shakes her head, chuckling.

She sets a jar in Brelyna’s room next to her book and on Onmund’s desk, rearranging a few of the items on his desk in order to fit the jar onto it.

“They’re nice to me…” Orthorn says. “But… I can’t help but feel like, well… This might sound ridiculous, but I can tell they miss you. I’m a pretty poor replacement for you in their group, if I’m being honest.”

“You’re not a replacement! Beside… I was barely ever here. My attendance has been spotty, at best.” Tashok waves her hand dismissively. “I mean, sure, it’s been some time, but my travels have taken me away for almost as long before…”

“Weren’t they travelling with you, sometimes? J’Zargo was there when you rescued me… And I think that after the Eye of Magnus incident, they’ve been worried about you.”

This gives Tashok pause. Truth be told, the events surrounding the Eye of Magnus had been enough to stress her enough for the next three years. Staying home to cook and spend time with her children had been her way of recovering, ignoring the entire situation as best she could. The thought that her friends would have also been traumatized in their own way, especially after their misadventure in Labyrinthian.

“Oh…” she breathes out guiltily.

She sighs, bringing her hand to her mouth.

How could she be such a bad friend?

_Pretty easily, come to think of it. _her mind supplies unhelpfully. _You pretended to be Inigo’s friend so you could use him._

She wasn’t trying to use him, not that it matters.

“Arch-Mage?” Orthorn asks with concern. “Did… Did I say something wrong?”

“Uh?” she shakes herself away form her spiralling thoughts. “No, sorry. It’s all me…”

“But I brought it up…” Orthorn doesn’t seem convinced that whatever is happening isn’t somehow his fault.

“No, no, really it’s… It’s fine. I just. Well, thanks for making me realize, actually.”

“You’re… welcome?” he looks confused.

“Sorry, I’m being weird.” Tashok runs her hand across her cheek. She glances to the side nervously. “Anyways! What was I doing?”

“You had those strange jars you were leaving everywhere…” Orthorn points to the bag of balm, before realizing he just called the Arch-Mage’s belongings strange. “I’m sorry! Was that rude?”

“No, no don’t worry… They’re my warmth balm…” Tashok digs one out and hands it to him. He takes it gingerly, unsure of what to do with it. “I used to make some back in High Rock for the winter.. Here of course I need to use different ingredients… Like steel-blue entoloma, redwort, columbine and whatnot. Luckily here snowberries seem to be a good replacement for holly berries so that was a pleasant surprise…”

She trails off as she sees Orthorn, ever so polite, doing his best to seem interested and engaged but clearly puzzled.

“What I’m saying is I figured it out.” she wiggles her shoulders with pride. “It’s taken me a while to get the hang of the new ingredients, but I think I’ve got it now… Hey! Why don’t you keep this one?”

“Keep it? I, um… How much?” Orthorn stammers.

“First one is always free for my friends.” Tashok shrugs. “All I ask is for some feedback. Like how quickly it took effect, if it was too intense or not intense enough, or any side effects. Do wash your hands after using it; you don’t want that anywhere sensitive, like your eyes.”

“I will…” Orthorn lifts the jar up to his eye level, examining it, before glancing timidly down to Tashok. “Thank you.”

“No problem!” she gives him a small delighted smile.

She glances about the hall, hoping for her mind to be reminded of anyone she might have forgotten. Her eyes fall on Ancano’s closed door, well, former, closed door. Curiosity pushes at the back of her mind, wondering if anyone has been inside or touched it since the Eye of Magnus incident.

She tastes bile at the memory of the events, and quickly walks upstairs. Orthorn follows her silently - she hadn’t told him to leave, but he was still unsure of whether or not she still wanted his company.

“Oh, hello Arch-Mage.” Enthir greets her.

“Enthir.” Tashok pulls out a jar of warmth balm. “I’ve got your warmth balm.”

“Oh, excellent! I swear I think someone stole my last one.” Enthir reaches for it, but Tashok pulls back ever so slightly and holds her free hand out. “Ugh… Can’t you make an exception?”

“Oh, you have the coin, I’m sure…” Tashok smirks. “Besides, think of it as payment for making me walking into a den of vampires.”

“Alright, alright! No need to being _that_ up.” Enthir seems to notice Orthorn for the first time. “I'd rather not anyone know about our... business dealings. Even _him_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tashok quirks her eyebrow.

“Oh nothing. Although, if I recall he’s the reason you had to go traipsing in a necromancer den, right?” Enthir shrugs smugly as he takes the balm. “Perhaps I’m not the only person you should be cross with, is all…”

“That’s different.” Tashok huffs defensively, snatching the bag of gold and glancing at Orthorn, who looks like he wants to fall through the floor.

“Is that so? Do tell…” Enthir leans back, arms crossed.

“He helped me fight through that place, for a start.” Tashok’s arms mirror the motion. She hadn’t meant to begin a confrontation, yet here she was. “And, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but vampires tend to be a wee bit more daunting than necromancers… What with the chance of contracting vampirism and whatnot.”

“Bah! You’d just brew a potion and get rid of it.” Enthir waves her off.

Tashok grumbles under her breath as she heads over to grab a slice of cheese from the nearby table, unwilling to escalate the conversation. She fumes silently for a minute, but soon she begins enjoying her snack too much to be annoyed.

“By Mara I love cheese…” she mumbles to herself, before her eyes widen as she remembers Orthorn is still with her. “Ghk! Um… I mean…”

“Cheese is pretty good.” Orthorn chuckles ever so slightly.

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where the Onmund and Brelyna are, would you?”

“Onmund might be in the enchanting room? He said he was hoping to start learning more about enchanting so Sergius gave him a job...”

With the small promise of finding another one of her friends, Tashok quickly jumps down the opening at the centre of the hall and down to the lower level, much to Orthorn’s distress.

“What was that for?!” he peeks over the edge.

“Oh, sorry.” Tashok says as she steps out of the pools of magical energy. “Habit.”

“Habit??” Orthorn is now descending the stairs quickly. “What do you mean, habit?”

“I try to be time efficient. It’s why I usually run everywhere… Oh… Maybe that’s why Mai’sha runs everywhere…”

“Mai’sha? Is that another member of the College?” Orthorn follows her out into the courtyard, shivering as the cold hits him. “I don’t think I know them…”

“Oh, no.” Tashok giggles. “She’s my daughter.”

Orthorn visibly starts as the gears begin working overtime inside his mind.

“Daughter?” he looks her up and down. “You’re a mother?! I thought you were… em, younger. That’s not rude, is it? I know you mentioned the Nord girl, but you said you adopted her.”

“I am young.” Tashok is now laughing openly with a wide smile. “I adopted all my children.”

“Oh. That makes more sense.” Orthorn chuckles sheepishly.

“It takes a lot of people by surprise! They’re here with me right now, actually!” Tashok lets him in first into the Hall of Countenance.

“In Winterhold?”

“Yes, in the College even. They’re in the Arch-Mage’s quarters playing a game. If Alesan and Mai’isha lose, I’m sure they’ll demand many rematches…” Tashok looks to Orthorn conspiringly. “Should keep them occupied for a while.”

“They’re in _your_ quarters, you mean?” Orthorn corrects with a small smile.

“Right, yes. My quarters…” she pauses. “It seems odd to think of it that way…”

Orthorn opens his mouth to reply, when Brelyna’s voice echoes to them.

“Tashok, is that you?” she asks from the middle of the stairs. Her face brightens as she sees Tashok. “You’re back!”

Brelyna runs down the stairs and hugs Tashok tightly, before remembering herself.

“Sorry!” she pulls back, bashful. “I just… It’s been been a while…”

Tashok recovers from the situation and immediately catches Brelyna into a second hug, which is returned after a few seconds.

“I missed you too.” Tashok says as she lets her go.

“Oh! That’s… right!” Brelyna seems startled by the admission but quickly recovers. Tashok had never hidden her affections for her friends. She takes Tashok by the wrist and leads her to the steps. “Come up, Onmund is trying to enchant a sword!”

“Trying?” Tashok quirks her eyebrow and chuckles as she follows Brelyna.

“He’s been at it for almost an hour…!”

“Oh well that’s not too bad…”

“I mean trying to read the instructions in the book…”

This does cause Tashok’s eyes to widen, partly with mirth. She turns to get Orthorn’s input when she notes he’s nowhere to be seen, and realizes with disappointment that he must have stopped following as Brelyna whisked her away.

_He must have wanted to leave for a while then…_ she tells herself with a pout. _Too polite to tell me._

“I’ve been trying to help but I’ve never really studied enchanting…” Brelyna continues. “Do you have any experience?”

“A little! I’d started but I haven’t gotten around to working on it very much since, well, everything!” Tashok gesticulates with her free hand. “I did enchant the dagger I use.”

“Great!”

They come upon the enchanting room, where Onmund is bent over the table, steel sword in the arcane enchanter under one hand while he quickly flips the pages of an ‘_Enchanting for Beginners_’ book.

“I told you I’d heard her.” Brelyna says as they enter the room.

This is enough to give Onmund pause from his frantic page-turning, as he glances back to them.

“Tash!” his face is slightly sweaty, though he visibly beams as he sees her. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’m sorry I left so quickly.” Tashok says as she approaches the table, eyes downcast. “I just… Needed some space.”

Onmund abandons his efforts as the general tone shifts into a more serious conversation. His eyes roam around the room as he tries to find the right words. Brelyna, for her part, sits on a nearby bench, glance switching between her two friends.

“It’s… That’s okay.” he says, finally looking at her. “If you needed space and all. We were just concerned… We weren’t sure if you needed us there or if you needed some breathing room. We kind of figured that since Inigo, Lucien and the priest left with you, you’d be alright.”

“A-and I was!” Tashok wrings her hands together guiltily. “I just… I didn’t really stop to think about how you all felt about what happened. I led you all into a death trap, and I didn’t even write you for almost a month!”

Onmund and Brelyna look at each other, sympathetic and unnerved.

“Well…” Brelyna starts but doesn’t continue for a few seconds.

“Truth be told we’ve been ignoring the whole… Event.” Onmund rubs the back of his neck, looking sideways. “J’Zargo especially. I expected he’d brag about us getting out of there but from what I can tell he hasn’t really told anyone about Labyrinthian.”

“Besides, we could’ve sent you a letter too.” Brelyna adds. “It’s not all your responsibility.”

“Yeah, Brelyna’s right.” Onmund nods. “You know what, I have an idea.”

“Oh?” Tashok’s head tilts to the side curiously.

“I’m not sure how long you’re thinking of being here, but… We — and by we I mean you, me, Brelyna, J’Zargo and even Orthorn, if we can convince him. We could head to the Inn and have some drinks and good food. To relax, catch up. Without having anything too intense to worry about.”

“Yes! Now that you’ve got your home and the College is back to normal, you can take it easy.” Brelyna perks up at the idea.

“Yeah… Yeah, I suppose you’re right!” Tashok’s face slowly lights up as she considers the idea. “I’d have to make sure that either someone is watching my children, or that they be in bed, but… I’d like that.” she gives them a shy smile. “Spending time with you all.”

“I can’t wait!” Onmund seems proud of himself. “Now, if I could just get this right…”

He frowns at the arcane enchanter, looking cross.

“I’ve been at this forever. I do everything I’m supposed to.” Onmund strides to the arcane enchanter. “I put the sword down on the enchanter…” he motions to it with both hands. “I put the soul gem inside the receptacle…” he points accusingly to the soul gem, sitting quietly where its meant to be. “And I know the enchantment. Every time I start, it seems to be working fine, but it just fizzles out after some time.”

“That’s… odd.” now it’s Tashok’s turn to frown as she steps closer. “What’s the enchantment?”

“Frost.” Onmund grumbles.

“Oh! I know that one!” Tashok’s ears perk up.

“You do? Could you give me a hand? Unless… You’ve got other more important things? I know you’re the Arch-Mage after all.”

“Nope! Not busy.” Tashok answers with a wide smile. “Got all the time you need.”

From behind them, Brelyna snickers.

“You seem very excited to help out.” Brelyna points out after the two mages turn to her.

“Enchanting is pretty fun. Not as much as potion-making, but it’s up there…” Tashok shrugs. “Besides, I’ll stay here until everything that needs to be done is finished. No need to hurry.”

“So… You know the Frost enchantment?” Onmund asks, hoping to be done with enchanting as quickly as possible.

“Yes! First, would you mind trying again? I’d like to see where it goes wrong…”

Onmund nods with a tired sigh and gets to work. He lets his hands hover over the item, eyes narrowed in concentration as he summons up his magic. The soul gem creates a faint light as the markings on the enchanter begin to glow, starting from the outer ring and converging towards the sword. The magic coming from Onmund’s extended hands surges momentarily as the glowing markings reach the sword. Faint waves of magic swirl across the blade.

Tashok nods to herself in concentration. So far so good.

Then, as the waves increase in quantity, they loose their light and fade away.

Onmund groans, running his hands over his face in frustration.

“Ugh! See this is what I mean.” he grumbles.

“Huh…” Tashok’s head tilts to the side. “Is this thing broken?”

She bends down to examine the arcane enchanter. It seems a bit worn, but otherwise well-maintained and functioning.

“I checked…” Brelyna shrugs apologetically.

“Should we go get Sergius?”Tashok asks.

“We tried.” Onmund sighs. “Said the problem was between be and the enchantment. That I just need to ‘get it’.”

“Ugh, I hated it when Master Ancald would tell me that!” Tashok pushes herself up. “Guess we’ll have to figure it out ourselves.”

“Well, you said you know the Frost enchantment, right?” Brelyna points out. “How do you do it?”

“Well, I usually just…” Tashok pauses. “Maybe I could show you?”

“I don’t think you should be the one to do it…” Onmund says. “If I don’t learn now I never will.”

“Yes, yes! Of course. I just mean…” Tashok picks a lesser soul gem from the many gems available inside the room, then pointing to the gem in the enchanter. “Can I?”

“Sure.” Onmund takes it off, allowing Tashok to slip in hers. “What are you going to enchant?”

“Uh…” she glances at her current dagger. Unfortunately this one is already enchanted. “Hmf…” she digs around her satchel. Many trinkets, papers and other items, but no weapon. “Give me a few minutes?”

“No problem.” Onmund sits down, opening the Catalogue for Weapon Enchantments book once more for at least the seventeenth time.

Meanwhile, Tashok jumps over the ledge leading to the pool of magic bellow, swinging herself and landing just outside the pool. She then sprints towards the Arch-Mage’s quarters, ready to riffle through her baggage. As she enters, she sees her children, along with Inigo, seated in the middle of the room and concentrated on a game.

“Mama!” Sofie sees her enter first. “Do you wanna play with us?”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to help Onmund with enchanting… I just need a weapon.” Tashok opens up her bag.

“Going off into a cave to retrieve something?” Inigo asks, interested in the possibility of adventure and spiders.

“Mh? Oh, no.” Tashok pulls out a steel dagger. “Enchanting.”

“Ah. Do not spend too much time bent over the enchanter, then.” Inigo smiles. “Bad for your back.”

Tashok quickly returns to the enchanting room, brandishing her dagger triumphantly.

“I’ve got one.” she wiggles her shoulders happily as she sets it onto the enchanter.

“Of course you’ve got some random dagger on you.” Brelyna chuckles fondly.

“Hehe… Now. Let’s do this.” Tashok looks to Onmund, who quickly approaches her and stands over her shoulder.

“I’m not in your personal space, am I?” he asks.

“Nope!” Tashok exclaims happily before focussing on the enchantment.

The process is identical to Onmund’s though as the waves of magical energy manifest across the blade, the light they emit increases in intensity until the waves freeze in place and the glow does from a dull grey to taking on a more white and blue appearance. It’s at this point that Tashok blocks everything else around her and focusses on materializing the enchantment to the best as she can. She thinks about the cold, and what exactly it means to her.

Mostly she channels her impression of Winterhold, it easily being the coldest place she knows.

The swirls of magic then solidify and let out an outtake of light as the soul gem begins to disintegrate.

“How’d you do it?” Onmund gasps. "When it started to stop moving, you looked really focussed. What did you do?”

“I always think about the enchantment when I infuse it into something…” Tashok shrugs sheepishly. “One of the books Urag gave me talked about ‘knowing’ the enchantment and that it’s not something you can easily teach someone else… I kind of figured it’s like illusion or conjuration, or even alchemy.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well… I was told I’m probably adept at making invisibility potions because, as someone born under the Shadow, I have a more, em… Personal understanding of what it means to go unseen. I try to apply that to everything else I do. At least that’s what the man who taught me how to summon my bow said. Like when I make an invisibility potion — I picture myself when I go invisible, and how it feels. When I summon my bow I think about the weight and shape of it in my hands… Or when I summon Pearl I picture his cute lil’ nose and soft fur…”

“I think I get what you’re saying…!” Brelyna’s face fills with clarity. “You visualize the enchantment and what it means to you, and you end up infusing your knowledge of what ‘frost’ is into it, right?”

“Uh… Yeah! Yeah that’s a better way to explain it.” Tashok blushes. Brelyna was much better atputting her disorganized rambling into words. “For the Frost enchantment I tend to think about either how it felt to be hit with a weapon using the enchantment, or Winterhold.”

This draws a laugh from Onmund.

“That bad, uh?” he grins. “Guess it’s not as bad for me as for you lot…”

His eyes widen as he gets an idea.

“Let me try again…” he quickly installs the needed items into the enchanter.

A few minutes later Onmund lets out a surprised and triumphant laugh as the enchantment solidifies into the blade.

“You did it!” Brelyna jumps with excitement.

The three of them celebrate, perhaps more than would normally be necessary, though their mirth keeps them from realizing this.

“Let’s take this to Sergius…” Onmund sighs with the relief of someone who’s spent hours on something and can finally be done with it.

“What did you think of?” Tashok asks as she follows him into the Hall of the Elements.

“I thought about that one time I fell into a frozen lake a few years ago.” Onmund shivers at the memory. “It’s the only time I _really _felt cold.”

“You don’t get cold here?” Tashok’s eyebrow quirks, doubtful.

“Em, a bit chilly, sure…” he shrugs. “But nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hmpf… Nords.” Brelyna rolls her eyes with a smirk.

“I suppose the warmth balm helps too…” Onmund grins at Tashok.

“Oh! Well, I’m glad it helps…” Tashok’s cheeks grow warm at the praise. "I’ve dropped more into your rooms…”

“You’re a saint!” Brelyna gives Tashok a loose hug with her arm.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Onmund says. “How much do we owe you?”

“You guys? Nothing. You’re my friends.” Tashok shakes her head. Her friends give her a fond but admonishing look. “Don’t worry, I charge other people. Especially Enthir, he gets to pay 10 extra septims.”

“Nice! I sure hope you have enough ingredients left to make more. According to Tolfdir, a lot of people are asking for some. Along with potions and whatnot… We’d get someone else to do it, since it feels a bit odd to bother the Arch-Mage for something this trivial but… Well… You’re the best alchemist here.”

“And the only one who knows how to make the warmth balm.” Brelyna adds. “Hope that’s alright?”

“Not one bit!” Tashok gasps excitedly. “I can’t believe people want my products so much! This is so exciting! I came here to perfect my alchemy and to sell my wares. This is exactly what I wanted. Oh and with the deal I’ve got in Riften, I might just be able to make an excellent profit!”

“Riften? You trust that place?” Onmund looks concerned.

“I trust the people I deal with. They mean well.” Tashok smiles. “They’re kind, if not stressed out.”

“Can’t say I blame them; living in Riften…” Onmund pushes the door to the Hall of the Elements open.

The three of them have barely been inside for more than a few seconds before they’re accosted by Tolfdir.

“Ah, there you are, Arch-Mage!” he says. “There are a few things I must bring to your attention…”


	4. College of Winterhold Quests Never End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tashok begins the Missing Apprentices Quest. With a tag-along!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is pretty short. I've got way more written but it comes after this bit, chronologically. But now we have a new plot-point! Woohoo!

“Crap!” Tashok pulls back her hand, bringing the small cut into her mouth in hopes of lessening the sting.

That’s what she gets for getting distracted while cutting up her ingredients. She glances at the partially chopped stem and groans when she sees that, unfortunately, some of her blood got onto it. Now she’ll need to not only chuck out this particular ingredient, but most likely the entirety of the potion in the making, unless she can get her cut cleaned and bandaged as well as finding a new knife and new purple flower within the next two minutes.

She looks around the many shelves, baskets and containers but finds no injury kit.

Well darn.

She legs out a long suffering sigh, still holding on to her finger as she runs out the room in search of a bandage. Why did she leave her satchel in her room?! She has it on her person for months and never used it but a few days after she decides to leave it behind she suddenly could use the small injury kit sitting inside.

Tashok finds herself wishing she had brought Pearl with her. He loved to sot across her shoulders and always managed to keep her in the moment whenever she was engrossed in a task, mostly by purring and demanding occasional pats. Sure, she could teleport him here, but she can’t guarantee Illia would see it, and Tashok would hate to worry her friend about the state of her cat. Besides, he’s probably curled on the carpet by the fire, enjoying the warmth that the College, despite its many enchantments, can’t quite rival.

She shivers as the cold wind lashes at her, prompting her to run as fast as she can on the walkway until she reaches the door to her quarters. She struggles with the handle, her hands already frozen and finally pushes herself inside.

She bristles as the heat from the room and the cold from outside clash, her body being in the unfortunate middle.

Her children are still fast asleep in their beds, while Inigo seems to have left, most likely heading for the inn for breakfast. She spares them a loving look, lingering in their sleeping faces.

She wonders if any of the dock workers felt the same rush of affection as her whenever the looked at her siblings and herself. An unpleasant part of her mind supplies that no, Orc children are only adorable to other Orcs, considering how alienating their features can be compared to the other races.

Unlike other elves their features are sharp, harsh and rough in comparison to many elves’ delicate faces.

No other race is quite like Orcs.

Tashok, for all that she believes, can’t quite see why people see them as off putting. Then again, growing up with other Orcs, having one’s face would get anybody used to certain features.

She realizes that Khajiit and Argonians were usually the least put off by Orcs, considering how vastly different they too are from the other races.

She snaps out of her musing, throwing as many ingredients into her bag as she could before rushing back to the alchemy room, unwilling to use the alchemy table. She would feel terribly guilty for waking her children up so early. She may be good at sneaking around them quietly, but some noises, such as the ones made by the alchemy kits, are near impossible to dampen enough to not be bothersome.

Tashok gets back to work, looking at the list of potions ordered and reorganizes her ingredients to be neatly put together for quick potion making. Less time to sort ingredients means more efficiency making the multitude of potions. She grits her teeth as she begins running out of mountain flowers and mudcrab chitins. Over some time, the headache caused by her gritting forces her to stop, rubbing at her temples, jaw and neck quickly to get rid of the sensation and get back to work. The pain recedes ever so slightly and unfortunately makes her consider buying some basil from Haran to chew on as she works, which makes her realize how hungry she had become.

“Already?” she looks down to her stomach.

She had hoped the bread and cheese this morning would be enough to last her until lunch time at least. Back during her apprenticeship she was able to wait until she finished her work day, yet since she’s been in Skyrim she never seems to be full enough. Winter has been worse, now that she thinks about it.

Perhaps she should mention this to Colette before leaving.

She shakes her head, hoping to push past the sensation a bit longer before taking a break, but finds herself suddenly dazzled as the room around her moved more slowly than it should.

“Oh!” her voice wavers.

She leans against the wall, waiting for the sensation to settle down. As she closes her eyes she begins to feel just how dry her mouth had become and how sweat had begun to form on her face and neck.

“Guess… A water and snack break is in order…” she huffs.

She feels the unwelcome sensation of disappointment spreading through her chest like some unpleasant tar. She used to be so much more resilient.

_That’s what you get for becoming lazy…_ her mind hisses at her.

By the time she reaches the nearby food table, she slumps down and shakily takes the nearest fruit available. After a few bites she glances about, grabbing the pitcher of water and pouring herself a cup in what she feels was her most excruciating water pouring to date.

Once her energy returns to her, she stands slowly, satisfied with the temporary fix. She would drink a stamina potion, were it not the second most requested item from the order.

As she’s about to return to the Alchemy room Faralda climbs the stairs and gives her a polite smile.

“Had a good late-lunch?” she asks.

“Late? What do you mean?” Tashok glances around as if something held the answer to what time of day it was. Sure there are windows, but they've been frosted over by the outside cold. “I just had a small snack. I’ll go to lunch once I’m done with the healing potions.”

“Arch-Mage, it’s two past noon.” Faralda informs her flatly. The Altmer woman sighs when Tashok just look at her blankly, processing the information. She had hoped that Tashok would take things at a reasonable pace after becoming Arch-Mage, but that hope was slowly getting quashed.

“It’s what?!” Tashok gasps. She immediately runs to the alchemy room, continuing her work at a frantic pace. “I should’ve been farther along by now! Ugh, I’m losing my touch…”

“Um… Arch-Mage?” the title sends an additional spike of anxiety through Tashok’s mind.

“Sorry! I’ll get this done as soon as possible.” Tashok doesn’t spare her a glance, hoping her voice sounds apologetic enough. “I know I should’ve started on this as soon as I got here but I wanted to talk to my friends. It's been almost a month and we didn't write each other...”

“Arch-Mage there’s no need to panic.” Faralda’s face comes into her field of vision. “The Stormcloak Commander waited two weeks for the order. He can wait two weeks more if he wants a decent product.”

“But-”

“None of that, now.” Faralda says calmly. “I may not be the Master Wizard, but I still care deeply about the College and your wellbeing.”

“I’ll be fine…” Tashok waves her off. “Really. I’m used to harder work than this. I’m not sure why I’m so low on strength lately…”

“Mh… Perhaps you’re pushing yourself too hard?” Faralda suggests.

“I’m not.” Tashok laughs dryly. “Trust me, you should’ve seen me back in High Rock. I was so much more effective.”

Faralda closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, which is just enough to make Tashok stop in her tracks, certain she’s made a mistake. Or perhaps she’s insulting Faralda by dismissing her advice.

_Of course you are!_ her mind tells her. _She knows more than you, you daft oaf!_

“Sorry! I’ll go eat properly now…” Tashok slinks away.

* * *

Later the evening Tashok feels herself panic as she sees that she’s run out of ingredients entirely. She runs her hands through her hair, cringing as she feels it knotted and slightly damp.

“Guess I have no choice…” she scowls and marches out the alchemy room.

She pushes past Orthorn, who was nervously approaching her and continues her march towards the Arcaneum.

“Urag, I have a question…” Tashok strides towards the librarian, almost tripping on her own feet. “Why am I the only alchemist here?”

Urag lifts his eyes from his books and has to stifle a laugh as he sees just how dishevelled the young Arch-Mage is. He hadn't been too convinced on making her in charge, not through any fault of her own, but by virtue of a few factors. The biggest factor being her tendency to scarcely be present at the College, with her young age being a close second. Then again, considering most faculty members believed her to be not a young adult, but an adult with more years and experiences under her belt, their decision, ill-advised as Urag finds it, does make more sense.

“I take it you’re slightly overwhelmed?” he asks.

“A bit yeah.” Tashok’s voice goes up an octave as she tries to mask her imminent meltdown with a tight smile.

“I can give you a list of people that might have enough time and skill to help you.” Urag inserts a bookmark and sets the book down gently. Whether the young Orc _should_ be the Arch-Mage or not, she was. And so Urag would make her life ever so slightly easier, where he could.

“I’m running low on ingredients already, and I’m only halfway through the orders…” Tashok lets herself fall onto a nearby chair, glancing up to him. “You wouldn’t know anything about Alchemy, would you?”

“Beyond the basics? No.” Urag sighs as he closes his books. “Most alchemists go on to open up their own shops, work for Jarls or some other big shots, and they tend to attract any apprentices who would be interested. Here we had Borvir for some time, but he and his brother were more interested in making mead than learning any magic. But I haven’t heard from them in some time.”

“Any idea where they went? I’m wondering if I could ask them for help…” Tashok pauses. “And to try their mead.”

“Your best chance is asking Phinis. He was the one in charge of that group. Much like how Tolfdir was in charge of yours. He’s actually been tryin’ to get a hold of them. Posted a bunch of notes all over the place.”

“Oh, well, I’ll get right on that… After I take a breather.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

This confuses Tashok. She peeks back up to him.

“What?” she cocks her head to the side.

“You’re learning to take breaks… I told you you needed to take things easy.” Urag smirks. “Unless you woke up at unholy hours again to get started on your potions.”

“Is five an unholy hour?” Tashok sheepishly asks, though her face and voice betrays the slightest hint of playfulness.

“You’re on thin ice, kid.” Urag turns back to his book, partially to hide his growing smirk. Perhaps if the members of the College manage to pester her collectively, they can peer pressure her into a semblance of work-life balance.

Tashok closes her eyes and stretches, gathering her thoughts before opening them again and looking about. The affirmation that she does indeed deserved a break takes the edge off the guilt she would normally feel for wasting time. Then again, there isn’t much she can get done with her supply so low.

“Now where’s Phinis…” she narrows her eyes and purses her lips as she scans the room. She spots him busying himself with picking out a small number of books. “Aha!”

She launches herself from the chair and rounds the wall.

“Phinis I have a question.” she says as soon as she’s within speaking distance.

“Arch-Mage!” he jumps slightly at her sudden appearance. “How may I help you? Any other Conjuration projects you’d like my input on?”

"No... This is about the group of apprentices in which Borvir was?"

“Ah, that.” Phinis’ mouth forms into a tight line. He glances to the side with a light frown before sighing and closing his book, not bothering to mark the page. “The group of apprentices prior to yours have disappeared entirely.”

“Wh-are they missing?!” Tashok almost entirely forgets about her potions as worry bubbles within her.

“I’m afraid so. I’ve had no contact with them for some time now.” Phinis grimaces tiredly.

“How?! For how long?” Tashok begins to pace. “When were they supposed to check in?”

“Well, it's possible that there was less than the necessary amount of oversight. And that’s without factoring in the whole... incident regarding the Eye. But you needn’t worry! The issue regarding the oversight is still being looked into. But we've had no contact with them for quite some time now... Arniel wondered if perhaps they'd somehow managed to get themselves lost in the Outer Realms, but I think that's giving them too much credit.”

“They could still be anywhere on Nirn…! Ugh… How long have they been missing?“

"I hadn't really considered it in terms of time. I suppose it's been at least a month. Let me think... what were they working on?"

“Does it matter? Why wasn’t I told about the apprentices before this? I should know this sort of things!” Tashok leaves out the unspoken «it’s my job» bit.

“We believed we had it under control.” Arniel lifts his hand in a calming gesture. Nothing is calmed, however. “At first i thought perhaps they’d heard of the events and opted to steer clear of the College for a while. But I’m starting to think this isn’t the case.”

“Where could they have gone? I’m going to need their names.”

“I'm not sure. None of them were working on anything terribly dangerous…” Phinis closes his eyes in concentration. “As I recall, Yisra was trying to improve flame cloak spells to better work in Skyrim's harsh environment. Ilas-Tei was practicing Illusions spells. She was having trouble with the calm spells, I believe, but only ever worked with skeevers. And then there's Borvir and Rundi. Twins, though they rarely agreed on anything. Those two boys were obsessed with mead. Convinced they could concoct something to compete with Honningbrew. Something about using Frost magic to chill the mead for a certain period of time. I felt it was a waste, but the Arch-Mage let them proceed.”

Tashok takes a deep breath. She’s going to need a clear head and tempered emotions for this.

“I’ll find them.” she grumbles. “I just need something to go on.”

“You don’t need to trouble yourself with this, Arch-Mage-” Phinis begins, but is cut off.

“No, I think I do. Isn’t that what I’ve always done since I got here? Go on fetching errands and sorting things out from before I even joined in? Just tell me where to look.”

“I…” Phinis’ objections die before they could even be fully formulated. He stands quickly. “Very well. Give me a few hours. I’ll go back through their latest check-ins and make a map and timeline for you.”

“Thank you.” Tashok attempts to level her frustration.

She wishes once more that she could have Pearl with her right now. Perhaps she could go throw herself onto her bed while he curls up over her head and purrs over her while smothering her ever so slightly. Still, if she’s do be embarking on another journey, summoning Pearl her would be extremely selfish.

Perhaps she should go see her children before leaving. They tend to lift her spirits when they’re not lifting her heart rate with their antics.

She gathers her thoughts and begins walking towards her room, blissfully getting lost in thought until she hears footsteps rushing towards her. She tenses and turns on her heels, muscles tightening in apprehension of who it could possibly be. She relaxes when she notes that it’s only Orthorn.

“Uh- Arch-Mage?” he asks nervously and oh no, he sounds like he’s about to ask a favour.

“What?” she says curtly as she feels a pang of frustration rising. She already has so much to do.

Orthorn practically shrivels under her tone and hard stare, which makes her frustration melt into remorse.

“I’m sorry.” she says quickly. “I’m just a bit overwhelmed. What do you need?”

“About that, I, uh. Well, you see, I became an apprentice here before you…” he looks around uncomfortably. “N-not that I’m implying superiority! It’s just… Well. I overheard you talking with Phinis about the missing apprentices.”

“Yes? Do you have clues as to where they could be?” Tashok perks up at the possibility of her job being easier.

“Er… No not really… Sorry. But, well it’s just…” Orthorn looks down. “They were my group.”

“Oh.”

Orthorn is silent as he gather himself.

“I’m sorry about your friends.” Tashok finally says.

“They weren't really my friends… Not the way you and the other apprentices are. The only ones who seemed to like me are dead now, since they were the Fellglow Keep and all… I'm pretty sure they never liked me in the first place.” Orthorn admits sadly. “But that's not - it’s just, it doesn’t seem fair. I made a mistake and I’m still here while the rest of them are missing?”

“I’m… not following.” Tashok says.

“I guess I’m trying to ask if — if I could come with you? To look for them?” Orthorn looks to her pleadingly. “I promise I won’t get in your way. I know you can probably handle this without me — who am I kidding you can definitely handle this without me — but it doesn’t feel right. Not doing anything.”

Tashok stares at him in surprise. Orthorn hadn’t seemed like he was particularly interested in leaving the College grounds again, and especially not in order to go adventuring and fighting, yet here he was.

“I’m sorry.” Orthorn interprets her stunned silence as anger. “I know you probably don’t want me along, but if you let me I’d be in your de—”

“I’d love to have you with me.” Tashok lets a small smile creep across her face. “Thank you for offering.”

“Oh... Thank you for letting me go along!”

“So… Tomorrow morning? I need to wait for Phinis’… Uh… Report?”

“Right! Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then! Or maybe later tonight, since we both live here right now, and all…”

This causes Tashok to chuckle.

“Of course. Come to me if you want help packing your things. I’ve got a list of must-haves…” she says before heading to her quarters. “I’ll see you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay. I've had this for almost 2-3 weeks but being home for the holidays kept me away from my laptop for the most part, so I couldn't proof-read it. Happy new year y'all! :)


End file.
